


Interlude: One Night in March

by writing_practice



Series: Three Days in February [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Louis, Can be read as stand alone, Cursed Louis Tomlinson, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Explicit Sexual Content, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Magical Realism, Mild Kink, Not Canon Compliant, Supernatural Elements, The other three lads make an appearance too, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_practice/pseuds/writing_practice
Summary: Set one month after what happened in February when Louis was cursed, we get a glimpse into Harry and Louis's relationship after everything they went through to find each other.____________________If you haven't read Three Days in February, enough is explained to enjoy this as a PWP.If you have read Three Days in February, buckle up again, loves, because everything in here, even the explicit sex, has a reason to be here.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Three Days in February [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888597
Comments: 17
Kudos: 111





	Interlude: One Night in March

**Author's Note:**

> This fic just got a massive overhaul in preparation for the sequel to Three Days in February. So many people have asked for it. I'm working on it, I promise! I hope you enjoy this OS in between! There shouldn't be any major triggers, but reach out if you feel I've missed one!
> 
> Huge huge thank you to my beta, zanni (zanni_scaramouche go read her stuff!) for helping me with the revisions on this OS! There were many points when I simply wanted to bang my head against the wall and scrap the whole thing, but she kept me on task! You're an absolute gift, love! And another thank you to Aoife, for being the most incredible support a writer could have. I'm in awe of you.
> 
> For those of you who have read Three Days in February, don't forget those sleuthing glasses! As always, nothing I write is without reason for being here and there are clues everywhere swirling beneath the surface and between the lines!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“You know there’s a fucking telly if you want to stand around and stare, Haz.”

Harry turned around from where he was leaning against the window-ledge of their hotel room. 

They had two nights in the same hotel room, a rare occurrence for tour. He tracked Louis as he stepped out of the washroom. The hair around his face was a bit damp like he’d washed some of the sweat from the show away.

Although barefoot now, Louis was still wearing the short-sleeve black button-up and cuffed black jeans he’d worn for the show, which didn’t make much sense seeing as they usually changed out of their tour outfits in the venue dressing room to keep them separate from their casual clothes.

Sometimes the energy of their shows reminded him of Louis, four drinks in and wielding his lightsabre wit and moving his hips like a bundle of sparklers and firecrackers that had been accidentally set loose indoors, so fast and so wild that Harry almost couldn’t keep up. 

The show must’ve gone really well, a wild rush of light and sound and energy and movement until the whirlwind of performing with his best mates left nothing but an intoxicating blur in Harry’s mind, one with no comparison except maybe that fateful night at the club a month ago that had ended up meaning everything in the end.

That one wild weekend gave him the Louis stood before him now. Harry still had recurring nightmares about it all, but as magical and as terrifying as those three days had been when Louis was cursed, Harry would go through it again if it meant he and Louis found their way here to each other in the end.

The last memory of the show tonight was one of stillness, of lying on the sofa in the dressing room right before they were set to go on. He lived for those moments too, the few minutes of complete stillness and mostly silence they all took to draw up the wells of energy for the show right before everything kicked into high gear and they were fully psyched for the performance.

The memory was so vivid he swore he could still feel Louis’s sun-flare of a soul warming him from the inside out, the soothing sway of Louis’s chest against his back as he breathed and the pressure Louis’s chin on the top of his head, the gentle brush against his curls when Louis exhaled even now. 

They’d been taking up most of the sofa, left just enough room for Niall and his bright red jacket to bum one end with his acoustic. Harry had laid stretched between Louis’s legs, head resting against Louis’s chest with Louis’s biceps cradling him loosely as he held his phone over Harry’s chest. His fingers fiddled with the cuff of Louis’ sleeve while Louis idly scrolled through Twitter where they could both see. He’d been so comfortable on his favourite bed he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d dozed off for a bit.

Blinking out of the memory when something thumped in the next room over and sounded vaguely like a guitar being set down, Harry grinned, shrugged, turned back to the window again.

“Telly can’t keep reminding me how amazing and mental our fans are.” Harry tried to focus on the people below but found his gaze inevitably drawn from the window to Louis, the way it always was. 

Looking at Louis was inevitable for Harry, especially in moments like these when they were alone and he didn’t have to hide.

“Still there then?” Louis unbuttoned his shirt as he stood over his suitcase before kneeling in front of it on one knee to rummage about for another shirt, tossing bundles aside every which way. Harry supposed if the clothing had never been folded going in, it didn’t matter that it got even less folded as the tour went on.

Louis was a lad of many _many_ talents, but right now Harry had to admit his most impressive was that he somehow knew which balled up bundles had been worn and which hadn’t, no nose needed. At least, Harry had never caught him in the act of sniffing said bundles.

Louis pulled out a white bundle with some splashes of colour and eyed it, then shrugged his current shirt from his shoulders and tossed it somewhere to the side.

Harry drank in the sudden influx of bare skin filling his vision that was like turning on a bright light in a darkened room. His gaze traveled over the plane of Louis’s back, watching the muscles shift beneath his skin as he unbundled the shirt to put it on then caught Harry looking out of the corner of his eye. 

Louis arched a brow at him.

“What?”

Harry shrugged, index finger tapping against the glass where he was leaning both hands.

“Nothing. Just watching.”

Watching how smoothly Louis had dropped to his knees at the suitcase and how very much Harry wished he would do that somewhere else, somewhere much closer. Somewhere right between Harry’s legs.

Louis tipped his head to the side, expression one of obvious disbelief and thinly-concealed amusement. He dropped the tee far too casually back into his luggage without taking his eyes off of Harry.

“Staring you mean.”

Harry had been over the difference between staring and watching with Niall and Liam but they were not Louis. He was most definitely not staring. Avidly drinking in Louis’s body, specifically the white band of his Topman briefs hugging his hips above the line of his jeans and the delicious dip in his waist and the 78 tattoo and the dark buds of his nipples begging for attention and the perfect line of his neck up to that preciously-private spot behind his ear that Harry loved so much? Yes. But definitely not staring.

“No, watching.”

Louis’s eyes narrowed and Harry knew Louis had heard in his tone that he was repeating a phrase he’d said before, but instead of explaining because _where’s the fun in that?_ Harry just flashed him a cheeky grin. As much as he wanted to keep _watching_ Louis, he turned to the window to gaze over the darkening expanse of the city just to prove to Louis he could look away.

He could; it just took a lot of willpower. His cock definitely didn’t have nearly as much of said willpower.

The lights were just starting to twinkle in different buildings and the street in front of the hotel, only four floors below, remained clogged with excited fans. There were so many signs and so many people that Harry couldn’t pick out any one face. They all blurred together and the signs and banners a few were holding strangely looked like tweets to him. He found it hard to focus enough to read any of them. He was trying too hard to not focus on Louis kneeling just behind him, bare-chested and close enough to touch.

The fans knew Harry was watching from the window. He’d waved to a few, but security, timing, the need to rest, and the fact that they’d spent a few hours earlier meeting with fans meant that the waves were enough. At least, he was pretty sure they had done a meet and greet. The rest of the night leading up to this moment was a blur though, overshadowed by Louis like everything always was.

Through the window he waved to another fan that looked like she might have just seen him and was ridiculously happy when she waved back.

He liked moments like these; personal. It felt special being able to share eye contact like this. For just a moment, he and someone else were on exactly the same wavelength. Watching her jump excitedly, poke the girl next to her and point up at him only made his heart warmer.

“I hope they don’t stay out there all night.”

“Well they will if you keep giving them something to see.” Louis matched Harry’s concern with more amusement hinting beneath his words like he knew exactly what he was doing to Harry. When Harry saw him shift out of the corner of his eye to face Harry with a forearm braced on one of his knees, Harry knew that was absolutely the case. Harry’s gaze fell over his shoulder to see Louis fully before he could think to stop himself.

Louis had yet to come to the window so even if the fans did see Harry, they didn’t know Louis was there. They chose moments like these, seen together in one hotel room, very carefully and tonight was not one of those nights. 

Even though Louis was kneeling, the fading daylight spread far enough into the room to highlight his face. Everything in life was softer in twilight hues, Harry noticed, except for the angles of Louis’s face. The pale blues and purples and reds and yellows and golds softened his skin and the faint stubble peppering his cheeks. It kindled the electricity in his eyes but sharpened his angles, the cut of his jaw and the high ridge of his cheekbones and the straight line of his nose. The exquisite mix of soft and hard made Louis ethereal. It wasn’t the fading sun lighting him; the room could be in complete darkness and Harry would still see Louis clearly.

Louis was cocking an eyebrow at Harry once more and looked about to start the argument over watching vs. staring again.

“I’m just waving,” Harry said before Louis could do that, rolling his eyes in an attempt to roll the wave of desire back up from where it was pooling low in his stomach. “Want them to know I see them, you know?”

“One of these days that big heart of yours is going to get the better of you, Hazza,” Louis mused, shaking his head. Then he tipped it to the side, that tell-tale half-smirk winding its way onto his face. He tapped his fingers against the air to a beat only he could hear. “Probably tonight.”

Harry knew that look. He knew to be wary of that look and that’s exactly what he was now.

“Why?”

Louis shrugged and stood, sliding behind Harry and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. His tongue darted out to wet Harry’s neck and the skin right below his lips before he kissed it, hands slipping beneath Harry’s shirt to roam over the ridges of his abs like he was mapping them, the king staking his claim. 

Harry licked his lips, inhaled sharply, felt Louis’s grin against his skin.

“Not gonna leave so long as they have an...“ Louis tipped his head to the side and Harry knew he was absolutely doing that on purpose. “...exhibit to see.”

“Lou, you-"  
  
  
Fingers on his jaw, Louis turned Harry until their lips connected. Harry tried to turn and face him but Louis tightened his hold as his tongue delved into Harry’s mouth.

Harry groaned into the kiss, twisting enough in Louis’s arms to catch Louis around the waist. Crushing their bodies together, Harry flipped them round. No longer blocked by Harry, the fading daylight silhouetted Louis now. Harry barely had time to drink in the glow pooling in the deep hollows of Louis’s collarbones before Louis was chuckling against his lips.

  
  
His hand left Harry’s jaw to travel down over his chest and lightly squeezed Harry’s pec through the loose white shirt he was still wearing from the show.

“Weren’t kidding about haunting the fucking gym, were you?”

“Said I would, didn’t I?” 

Harry’s hands roamed over Louis’s bare back, fingertips practically vibrating with the frenetic energy contained, wild and caged and intoxicating, beneath Louis’ skin. 

“May come a time I’ll have to carry you again.”

Louis licked into Harry’s mouth, drew Harry’s tongue out to play only to pull back enough to speak.

“May come a time I’ll actually fucking let you.”

Burying his fingers in Louis’s hair, Harry stole another kiss, moaning when Louis squeezed his chest again, harder this time, like he wanted the shirt off. Instead he drew his hand down Harry’s side and tugged at the hem as though to say _best keep this on_. 

Harry did not want to keep his shirt on. He preferred no clothes most of the time and now all he wanted was to feel Louis’s body against his own, nothing between them. He opened his mouth to protest, but Louis silenced him with his lips, teasing and too brief.

“Best keep waving, yea?”

“Wh-"

Louis tugged Harry closer to the window, leaving just enough space for himself in between. Eyes gone ten shades of devious, he sank to his knees as smoothly as he’d done before.

“You are _not_ about to-“ Harry cut off with a sharp intake of air when Louis cupped him through his jeans, moulding his fingers around Harry like he was testing the weight and feel of his cock.

Harry groaned, head falling as fast as the blood fell straight to his cock under those talented fingers. It wouldn’t take long before jeans were far too tight to be comfortable. Louis knew it too. He was mouthing at Harry through his layers, coaxing him with his lips and tongue and hot breath and -

“Been wanting this all fucking night,” Louis said lightly, lips brushing over Harry’s balls. The action sent a shock of pleasure, too teasing, too light, up his spine and Harry bucked forwards before he could stop himself, a sharp breath catching in his throat. He wished he could magic his fucking jeans out of the way for-fucking-ever ago but of course magic didn’t work like that.

His hands fell to find Louis, to hold on to him, to bury in his hair and push him closer. 

“Lou-"

Louis was too quick and had already pulled away, his hands pressing to Harry’s thighs to keep him in place. The light continued to fade in the dark hotel room, leaving them half-shadowed, yet Harry could see his smug smile so clearly.

“Keep waving, Haz.”

“Lou, fuck.“ Harry cut off again as Louis easily flicked the button on his jeans, mouthing at him again through the much thinner fabric of his briefs now. His hips jerked towards Louis’s mouth and Louis bit down with just the faintest press of his teeth like a warning. Harry jumped at the burst of pleasure.

“Wave, Hazza.”

Harry dragged his head up and stared down at the fans, pasting a smile that was quite genuine even though strained on his face as he found another fan to wave to.

She waved just as Louis finally freed him, the cool kiss of air as welcome as the hot kiss of Louis’s lips against his cock and his hand curling lightly, easily, yet not enough to actually stroke.

“ _Fuck_.” 

Harry licked his lips, dropped his gaze back down to see the soft spikes of Louis’s hair that hadn’t completely fallen after a day with fans. The only warning Harry had was the hand that pressed into his thigh, high near his hip, before Louis licked a long line along the underside of his cock.

Harry’s hips tried to buck, unable to go anywhere because of Louis’s hold even though they wanted to chase the wet heat that seared through him. He went to drop his hand in Louis’s hair again.

“Hands where they can see them,” Louis said before Harry’s fingers could find him, squeezing Harry’s thigh once in warning. “Give them a show, Haz.”

“I don’t think managem-"

Louis licked up his length again like he was drawing Harry in. He closed his lips around Harry the moment his tongue found the head, cheeks hollowing as he slid down halfway then pulled back just as slowly. Harry nearly sobbed at the wet heat surrounding him. Louis’s tongue swirled around his tip, nudging into his slit to make his knees nearly buckle, hands smacking against the window.

“Fuck fuck, Lou, fuck.” 

Harry forced his head up and looked out to the fans again, finding another and waving as the glorious heat of Louis’s mouth enveloped more and more of his cock until reaching the pressure of the back of Louis’s throat and he struggled to keep himself still.

Gently rolling Harry’s balls between talented fingers, Louis took him in further, swallowed around him, and fuck Harry was going to come undone. Louis had never taken Harry this deep, always refused to even try, but now he was almost completely nestled in the fever heat of Louis’s mouth. 

Stifling a groan, Harry bit down hard on his lip to keep from sinking that final inch into Louis’s mouth and sliding home.

Louis, the bastard, was somehow still smirking and Harry wouldn’t put it past him to try and talk too. Louis always talked with his mouth full and why would now be any different?

“I fucking swear if you try to talk...” It was impossible to not say what he was thinking when Louis’s lips were stretched around him like this.

Bad idea.

Louis’s gaze flicked up to him once. He didn’t talk, no of course he didn’t talk. He fucking _hummed._ The vibrations shot straight through Harry’s body and he thrust forward before he could stop himself and before Louis could stop him, hand dropping from the window to fall back into Louis’s hair.

“Jesus, Lou!” His eyes closed at the delicious slide of Louis’s tongue over his dick. He tried to pry his hand away from Louis’s hair.

Louis held his hand in place curved around the back of his head, giving Harry’s thigh two light squeezes. 

Fingers twisting into soft strands to hold on as much as hold him, Harry carefully thrust forward at Louis' silent command. Louis’s throat opened to take more of his length. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to watch Louis right now but fuck if he also knew there was no way he could stop himself from thrusting deep if he did. 

Easing out halfway, Harry built up a careful rhythm until both Louis’s hands were pressed into his thighs to steady himself. With each thrust he took more and more of Harry into his mouth.  
  
  
Squeezing his eyes shut did nothing to help. Harry could hear his dick drag past Louis’s lips, the faint muffling when he slid down Louis’s throat and forced his lips to open for air around Harry’s length. The kiss of air made cold from the spit covering his cock warred with the searing warmth of Louis’s mouth. Harry chased it, wanted to nestle his cock completely in that heat even with the slick glide of Louis’s fingers curled around him, squeezing and stroking what he couldn’t take.

“Fuck, Lou, I..." Foolishly, Harry looked down, breath catching as he stared at Louis’s lips stretched around his dick.  
  
  
Louis met his gaze when Harry’s hand curved around the sharp cut of his jaw. His thumb dipped into the hollow of Louis’s cheek before pressing right at the corner of his mouth. Louis’s lips shifted with each slide, his thumb gliding through Louis’s spit coating his length.

Harry’s head almost fell back on his shoulders when Louis hummed once more. His tongue swirled around the head of Harry’s cock and Harry’s vision whited out at the obscene burst of ecstasy. A choked cry mixed with Louis’s name spilled past his lips. His hips punched forward despite Louis’s hold, cock sheathing down Louis’s throat, his muscles fluttering around Harry’s length.

  
  
Gagging, Louis jerked back and thunked his head against the wall, fingers digging into Harry’s thigh. Louis tightened his grip right at the base of Harry’s cock, keeping him from the edge of release he so desperately wanted to careen over. A line of spit trailed from his lips to Harry’s dick, cheeks flushed and eyes almost too bright, wet from nearly choking. No product could keep his hair spiked now, leaving it more a mess of strands tangled around Harry’s fingers. 

“Sorry, rockstar, I still need this,” Louis grinned, licking slowly at his swollen bottom lip and catching the line of spit. There was a distinct hoarseness to his voice he only ever got in the bedroom, deep and throaty like he could hit low notes never attempted before because his throat had been opened by something far bigger than vocal warmups.

Squeezing again, Louis stroked once with the perfect amount of pressure before he kissed the tip. His lips looked so pink against the deep purple of the head of his cock where Harry swore all the blood in his body was.

Harry nearly came at the sight, but Louis wouldn’t let him. Harry wasn’t sure if he whinged but he may have as Louis nodded towards the window Harry was still very much stood in front of.

“Still have a fucking audience?”

What? They were definitely not on stage anymore and _fuck,_ if Louis gave a performance like this they’d sell out the O2 fifty bazillion times over and-

Oh. People. _Fuck_.

Harry focused outside again into what little light was left. He could barely make out the faces anymore, but the outlines and movement and reflected light from inside buildings told him that not all the fans had left yet. He doubted they could see inside. He waved once, just to see, but no one reacted.

“Just enough for the encore.” His voice was nearly as husky as Louis‘s but for much different reasons. 

He dragged Louis to his feet, whirling him around and pushing him into the window fast enough that Louis’s hands smacked into the glass where Harry’s had been moments before.

“Pretty sure the sun already closed the fucking curtain,” Louis laughed, not nearly as breathless as Harry wanted him to be right now. 

Louis flexed his arms and pushed against the window, bending a little further forward, grinding his arse into Harry’s crotch. Harry was so hard it fucking hurt and the scratch of Louis’s jeans against his cock was too much.

He caught those hips and stilled them, trapping Louis against his body as he jerked the catch on Louis’s jeans, shoving them and his briefs down in one go, letting them bunch around Louis’s thighs. He wasn’t the only one to groan when their hips connected again, his dick slotting against Louis’s bare arse this time.

“Better hurry, Haz,” Louis said, more breathlessly but still not enough, as he pushed back into Harry. “Can’t take all fucking century this time if you want your fucking witnesses.”

There was a rhythm going between their hips that he couldn’t stop, cock seeking the blaze of Louis’s body to a beat only it knew. He tried not to groan as Louis’s hips followed the movement, sinuous and sinful. He could barely think straight, biting the sinewy tendon of Louis’ shoulder to keep himself from bending Louis over, spreading him open and driving into his body.

Clarity burst across his senses and detonated the frenzied haze of lust clouding his mind enough for his willpower to return.

“That your plan, hm?” Harry stilled their hips. His dick nestled into the cleft of Louis’s arse, slick with Louis’s drying spit and his own precome. He bit at Louis’s ear, worrying it between his teeth, let Louis hear him panting. 

Louis tried to get a hand around his cock but Harry pressed it into Louis’s hip and held it there with his own, pasting himself against Louis. Louis’s breathy groan vibrated through Harry’s chest. 

Keeping Louis from moving with the hand Harry had trapped beneath his own, Harry slid his other around Louis’s cock, not surprised in the least to find Louis hard, precome leaking from the tip. He reveled in the moan Louis bit back, twisted his wrist and stroked him until he coaxed the delicious sound out.

“Get me worked up enough to go at your pace?”

“What, don’t want people to see how good you can give it?” Louis shot back, definitely more breathlessly now. Good. 

He turned his head enough to mouth at Harry’s jaw with his lips pulled up in a smile even now. Louis ground against Harry again, dragged his other hand from the window to curve teasing and challenging over Harry’s hip like Harry needed the extra help knowing what to do. 

“Is it because you can’t give it to me good?”

Harry curled around Louis’s shoulder to catch those lips in a kiss, driving his tongue past that dangerous smile in time with another thrust against Louis’s arse. The head of his cock caught for a fleeting moment on Louis’s hole and they both groaned.

If there was one thing Harry had learned, it was that every ounce of patience Louis lost during sex, Harry gained in equal measure. Now was no different.

“I think,” he broke the kiss, kitten-licked at Louis’s bottom lip, “we both know you love my pace.”

“You give it as slowly as you fucking talk,” Louis countered, only to suck in a breath when Harry stroked him again, the glide not quite smooth and far too dry. 

Harry had other plans for the lube Louis’s cock had already given him though.

He thumbed across the slit and Louis tensed, breath hitching. Lifting his thumb to his lips, Harry tongued the saltiness and hollowed his cheeks around the pad. His face was still so close to Louis’s that his other fingers brushed against Louis’s lips as he did so. He didn’t need to look to know Louis was tracking the movement.

“If I talk too fast you won’t understand me,” Harry mused, concealing his smile by licking at his thumb one more time before dropping his hand to Louis’s chest, teasing his nails over Louis’s flushed skin on his way down for more.

“Tit.”

  
  
Harry felt the grunted response in the jerk of Louis’s abs beneath his fingers.

Louis pushed back against him to see if he could actually move or get Harry to move. Harry gave him no room, but he did agree with him.

“Ok.” 

Harry let his hand detour away from Louis’s cock and back up his torso, easily finding one of Louis’s nipples. 

“Not what I fucking me-”

He rolled the sensitive bud between two fingers until it pebbled and Louis’s breathing sped up fast enough to have his chest pushing against Harry’s hand.

“Fuck.” The moan spilled from Louis when Harry licked his other hand and closed it back around Louis’s cock, stroking and twisting his wrist in time with the twisting of his nipples. Louis tried to shove off the window but all he did was press into Harry’s chest, panting now. “Just fuck me already, Haz.”

“Could do.” Harry said with a ring of desperation he couldn’t keep from his voice, much as he tried.

Letting go of Louis bordered on impossible, like Icarus craving the intoxicating burn of the sun. Louis’s growing arousal had turned him scorching against Harry, skin slick with sweat and flushed with fever. Harry swore there would be scorch marks every place their bare skin met in a searing press.

  
  
He gazed at the bedside table, couldn’t will his hands to let go of Louis. Where the fuck was magic when you really needed it?  
  
  
  
“But you see, we’re here, and the lube is there.”

“Then fucking get it.” Louis shoved back against him, knocking Harry’s breathing out of what little rhythm it had. “You want to fucking taste me for bloody hours it won’t be against the fucking window.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I demand luxury and comfort, you slow-arse bastard.” Louis’s voice choked off into a moan when Harry’s hand found his cock again, teased slowly over his length.

King Louis indeed. Only the best for the royalty of Doncaster.

Lube in hand, Harry smacked it down on the window ledge next to Louis before Louis could even realize he was gone. His own clothes somewhere behind him now, Harry knelt behind Louis and gave his clothes another sharp tug, dragging them over the fleshy curve of Louis’s thighs and to his ankles so he just had to step out of them. He started to turn but Harry caught his hips and held him in place, leaning in to bite at the swell of his arse. How could he not when it was right there before him?

“Fuck.” Louis whipped his head to look over his shoulder and Harry wanted to taste him, bury his face between his cheeks and work Louis open with his lips and tongue but Louis had succeeded in shaving off half of his willpower, his cock weeping far too much for him to do that now. So instead Harry bit down on the other cheek before he stood, pasting himself against Louis’s back before Louis could attempt turning again. He held back a moan when everywhere he touched now was bare skin.

  
  
The remaining rays of the sun had long since gone down and the lights remained off in their room, so if anyone was still outside they wouldn’t be able to see anything and probably didn’t think Harry was still in the room. The only light came from the reflected lights of the city, a mix of blues and yellows that lit Louis up like he was moonlight himself.

Harry slid his hands from Louis’ shoulders, down his arms, until he covered Louis’s with his own and pressed Louis’s into the cold glass. Tonguing along the curve of Louis’s ear, Harry suckled at his earlobe, murmuring as Louis shuddered against him, “Keep your hands on the window, Lou.”

Releasing Louis’s hands, Harry smiled into the kisses he trailed down Louis’s neck and spine when Louis’s palms stayed pressed flat to the glass. His hips bucked forward into Louis when Louis’s muscles tensed beneath his lips. When he hit a spot low on Louis’s back, Louis arched from the pressure.

“Hazza, I will fucking murder you,” Louis grit out, flexing his arms to stop himself from taking his hands off the window. Harry had to give him praise for that. He pulled Louis’s hips back, spread his legs a little further, breath catching as the moonlight moulded into the dips and curves of Louis’s back when he bent forward, fingers curving against the glass.

Snicking open the lube, Harry drizzled some over his fingers, warming it up. Reluctantly pulling away and replacing his cock with his fingers, touching the tips to Louis’s hole, he waited until Louis turned back around before squirting lube straight from the tube directly over his rim.

Louis jerked, hissed at the cold, his hole clenching against Harry’s fingers.

“Fuck! You fucking twat.”

“That’s one point for me.”

“You don’t get fucking-“

Harry pushed the tip of his middle finger forward, twisting until the tight ring of muscle gave to take him in. It punched a breath out of Louis. Christ he was tight, clenching around Harry’s finger and Harry wrapped a hand around him again, stroked him until Louis relaxed and his finger slid all the way in. Harry’s moan of anticipation matched the quiet noise that caught in the back of Louis’s throat.

He mouthed at the line of Louis’s shoulder, lips sliding in the beads of sweat pearling Louis’s skin.

“What was that? I don’t get fucking?”

“Yes. You don’t get fucking,” Louis breathed, finally breathless enough for Harry, not bothering to pick his head up from where it’d fallen forwards. “Hurry the fuck up, Haz.”

Harry yearned to hold him close, cage and soak up all the wild energy simmering beneath his skin, crackling and sparking Harry like a drug. But the moonlight was catching in the glowing curves of Louis’s body when he moved with the rhythm of Harry’s finger. Harry split the difference and held Louis still just enough to limit the freedom of his hips.

It didn’t take long before Louis was pushing back against his finger. Harry added another. One of Louis’s hands fell to cover Harry’s on his waist and Harry held still, letting Louis do all the moving and use Harry’s fingers to open himself up, hips undulating in an infinity symbol until his spine arched like a zing of pleasure had just shot up his spine. He groaned, head lifting only to fall back on his shoulders this time.

“There. There. Fuck.”

Harry took control again, arm wrapped around Louis’s waist to lock him in place. He curled his fingers, worked them against Louis’s prostate. Louis’s body tensed with each burst of pleasure.

When Harry added a third finger, Louis’s lips fell open, breath reduced to harsh gasps.

“Fuck, fuck,” Louis choked off a moan, pushed against Harry with enough force until he broke free enough to move, shoving himself back onto Harry’s fingers before Harry caught him again. “Hazza, fuck, fuck, don’t...“

Everywhere they touched, Louis’s body thrummed with energy, teetering steadily closer to the edge as Harry drove his fingers into him until he cut off again.

“Jesus Lou,” Harry choked, the smack of Louis’s hand back against the window bursting across his senses and narrowing his vision to the moonlight and city lights bathing Louis, the sweat glistening on his skin, head fallen forward and back heaving as his body held Harry’s fingers in him.

“Get the fuck in me. Fuck. Fuck, please, _please_.”

Harry’s fingers faltered at the choked and throaty pleas spilling from Louis. He’d never heard Louis this desperate, no matter how many times Harry had tried to work him up to this. Even overwhelmed with pleasure Louis’s self-control never wavered. Harry dragged his fingers out and grabbed the lube, coating his cock as quickly as he could, biting back a moan at the bursts of pleasure from his own hand.

Louis's hand fell to clutch Harry’s, pinning it against his hip and lacing their fingers as Harry pushed forward, unrelenting, until the head of his cock breached Louis’s body. He eased into Louis, who struggled to take him in even with all the prep and lube. Despite his desperation every fibre of Louis’s body was resisting even as Louis’s fingers and choked off breaths urged Harry on. A long, low groan escaped Harry as he slid agonizingly slowly into him, gasping from the unexpected effort. He stroked his thumb over the ridge of Louis’s hipbone, leaning over his back to press a kiss to that precious spot just behind Louis’s ear.

“Lou, relax,” he breathed, voice strained, words soft. “It’s ok, let go.”

Louis sucked in a breath through his nose then shoved his whole body back, impaling himself fully on Harry’s cock. A high-pitched whine punched out the back of his throat and harmonized with Harry’s moan.

“ _Fuck_.” 

Harry’s fingers flexed against Louis’s hips, his mouth falling open from the white hot rush of pleasure, vision tunneling to where they were joined. Shaking sweaty curls out of his face and panting just from the effort to not move, he stared at the Louis’s perfect fucking arse pressed against his hips, finally no space between them.

“Been trying,” Louis gasped out, head hanging down between his arms. “Jesus, Hazza,“ he cut off with another stifled moan, “you’re so fucking big.”

Louis had never admitted that so openly. Harry wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t hear it. A crooked grin wound its way onto his face even though he knew Louis couldn’t see it.

“Like I need coaxing.” 

Louis was working to relax completely around him, his body a vice gripping Harry with a pressure that stole Harry’s breath. He tried to distract Louis the only way he knew how, focusing on their beautiful game. 

“Told you sometimes big can be hard to handle.”

Louis’s laugh was somehow too breathless for the actual sound. It ended up coming out both breathy and breathless at the same time which honestly made no sense but if anyone could pull that off it was Louis and his fucking ridiculous vocal control.

“I can always fucking handle you.”

Harry smoothed the hand not laced with Louis’s over Louis’s chest, his nipples, the ridges of his abs, stroked his cock to replace the pain, prepared to take as long as Louis needed even if it meant the end of him.

“You can fucking handle anything,” Harry murmured against his skin when Louis finally began to relax around him.

Before Louis could answer, Harry bit his lip and slid his hand back to palm Louis’s arse, thumb pressing into his flesh and spreading him open so he could see his cock disappearing into him. 

Louis moaned, long and low, arching when the action had Harry sinking fully into him, rim stretched, wet and glistening.

“Fuck, fuck...” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand, holding still, pushing forward, shoving back, like he couldn’t decide which he wanted. “Move. Fucking move, Haz, fuck-“

Harry pulled out halfway and thrust back in, a short, sharp jab that still had enough force to knock Louis’s hand from his waist and brace against the window again. It was the most he could do for a few moments, pulling out a little further each time until Louis’s body completely gave way and let him in. Louis’s breathless half-moans, punched out of him with each thrust, tingled like velvet honey down Harry’s spine. It wasn’t often Louis went speechless, but Harry reveled in the moments he was able to bring Louis that much pleasure.

“Thought you were going to fucking give it to me,” Louis panted, _obviously_ speechless, lifting his head enough to look over his shoulder at Harry. The sweat was slicking his hairline now, face flushed, lips swollen from Harry’s cock. It didn’t lessen the intensity of the smirk he still was able to level at Harry and Harry should have known better. Even with his fucking irresistible lips stretched around Harry’s dick Louis managed to not be speechless.

It was only right before he came that Louis ever truly stopped speaking and Harry was going to get him there if it was the last thing he did on this fucking earth.

Harry dropped his hands to the curve where Louis’s hips met the top of his thighs, jerking him further from the window and knocking his legs open, forcing Louis to bend further down to keep bracing on the window. Bending his knees slightly, Harry thrust his hips forward and up, bumping Louis onto the balls of his feet for a moment and punching another low moan from him. Harry was doing all the work, didn’t care, too breathless with pleasure and exertion to have the breath to moan himself, even if it’s all he wanted to do.

Louis’s eyes met Harry’s in their mirror images.

“What? Got nothing to say?” 

Harry leaned closer, eyes locked on Louis’s shadowed reflection, hovering over Louis’s back as much as he could without breaking the rhythm, pounding into him now.

“Gets you off, doesn’t it,” he panted into Louis’s ear, grinning when Louis’s eyes fluttered, almost closed. “Anyone could look up, see you getting fucked against the window. Want people to know, don’t you?”

“Want people to know how slow you fucking give it,” Louis grunted, muscles in his arms permanently flexed to keep him in place.

The shock of his voice when Louis actually answered had Harry’s body instinctively reacting to Louis’s words by breaking their rhythm. Louis knew what his voice did to Harry and would usually stay silent by now to work him up. Burying completely in Louis with a single sharp thrust, he knocked Louis up onto the balls of his feet again and held him there.  
  
Louis gasped out a string of curses, fingers trying to find purchase against the glass.

“Want people to fucking know I’m yours.” Harry circled his hips, stroked his cock deep inside until Louis went taut against him, biting back a cry, his arse clenching around Harry. Harry’s fingers dug into Louis’s hips to stop himself coming right then. He kept the deep angle, starting to thrust again.

  
  
Louis’s lips fell open, his body winding up a little further with each piston of Harry’s hips.

“Want people to know that only you can get me off, want people to know that only I can give it to you just the way you fucking like it.”

Louis didn’t answer. He tried to pull one hand away and reach for his cock but at the next thrust he had to slap it back to the window again.

  
  
Harry wanted to kiss him, wanted to curl over Louis’s back and feel as much skin as he could, but he couldn’t. He could barely keep his own orgasm at bay.

Louis suddenly choked on a cry, his entire body clenching around Harry as he came soundlessly. It took only three more thrusts for Harry to lose himself in the blinding white pleasure, burying in Louis, hips jerking. His body couldn’t help but try to get just that much deeper, that much closer, locked in his own high even as Louis went lax in his hold, muscles letting go as he plummeted back to earth.

For several moments all Harry could do was keep himself standing, watching Louis’s back rise and fall as he caught his breath, head fallen against one of his outstretched arms. Louis’s back arched when Harry eased out and took a careful step back.

Louis slowly dropped onto his heels, groaning when his feet hit flat against the floor again, sagging forwards until his forearms and forehead were pressed against the chill of the window.

Using his palms to push off the window a few breaths later, Louis barely had room to begin to stumble back before he knocked into Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped around him over his arms, fingers still slick with lube and arms now slick with the sweat and come coating Louis’s chest. He was careful to keep his hold loose. 

Louis’s chest was pushing against his arms as he caught his breath. His head fell back on Harry’s shoulder in time with Harry’s head falling forwards to bury in Louis’s neck. The trembles in Louis’s body, the aftershocks from the mix of pleasure and exertion, mirrored his own.

Harry let his gaze roam over Louis’s reflection, the flush on Louis’s chest above his own crossed arms, Louis’s lips parted as he breathed, cheeks flushed, hair slick with sweat and head turned on Harry’s shoulder so his forehead knocked into Harry’s cheek, looking so utterly sated and spent that Harry wondered if he could possibly feel more accomplished than he did.

His vision refocused on the window itself, blurring their image and bringing the streaks of come on the glass into sharp focus. Realizing that his thrusts as he chased his orgasm must’ve knocked Louis enough to get both his chest and the glass, Harry chuckled with barely any breath behind it, as breathless still as Louis was.

“Not bad,” he teased, turning his head to mouth at Louis’s cheek. He still didn’t have the breath for proper kisses.

Louis tensed and nipped at his jaw in retaliation.

“You fucking-“

“I meant my graffiti,” Harry cut in, turning his head again and dropping his chin onto Louis’s shoulder as he stared at the window. It was easier to keep the smile off his face and look innocent this way.

In the window he saw Louis’s gaze flick to the glass and then Louis snorted breathlessly.

“Your fucking graffiti is stuck up me arse.”

“Mm, that’s true too.” Harry tipped his head to the side, bumping his temple against Louis’s as he studied the window. “But that’s still my artwork.”

That had Louis lifting his head to look at him.

“Do you need a fucking sex ed refresher?” He flicked at the underside of Harry’s jaw. “That’s obviously my balls that I just emptied all over the bloody window.”

“Oh, you’re definitely the paint,” Harry agreed with a cheeky grin, “but I’m definitely the artist.”

One of Louis’s hands wound into his hair and deliberately pushed sweat-soaked curls forward right into Harry’s face and then Harry’s face into his neck, the closest he could get to star-fishing with his hand right now.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“Now who needs the sex ed? Think you’ll find it was _you_ who was full of _me_. Very full.” Harry didn’t try to lift his head, mouthing the words into Louis’s skin and then biting right where his neck and shoulder met. He wanted to reach down and give Louis’s arse a squeeze, but he didn’t trust himself to not use his fingers to further Louis’s education on just where he’d been full of Harry. 

Louis’s hand was still shoving Harry’s head into his neck, but his fingers were also massaging against his scalp.

He tightened his hold on Louis just to keep his hands in place and nibbled lightly at Louis’s skin. 

  
  
“Pretty fucking picture too, like clouds.”

Harry felt him pause, a beat of silence, then-

“Did you really just try to fucking cloud-gaze my spunk?”

Harry laughed and kissed the skin he’d been nibbling.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ and knew Louis could feel it against his skin. “Didn’t try. Just did.”

“Bird shite,” Louis muttered, shaking his head as best he could with Harry’s where it was. “That’s what your bloody art looks like: fucking bird shite.”

Harry laughed again and when Louis’s fingers started playing with his sweat-soaked curls he lifted his head enough to nuzzle his nose against Louis’s jaw with a grin.

“Think we should ask Zayn to rate it?”

“He’ll kill you,” Louis countered even as he sank back into Harry. “I can’t have that.”

“Why?” Harry pressed another kiss to Louis’s neck. “Cause I give it to you too good?”

“Because murdering you has always been my right and I’m fucking cashing in on that now.” 

Louis wriggled in Harry’s hold. One hand reached between them, brushed against Harry’s thigh and came out to smack onto Harry’s arm, deliberately painting Harry’s skin with a large glob of the come that must’ve been leaking down the back of Louis’s leg. ”You’re so fucking messy.”

“You love messes,” Harry laughed, nuzzling his nose against Louis’s cheek until Louis turned enough so Harry could snag his lips in a kiss. “Stop complaining.”

“I love my messes. Not yours,” Louis muttered against his lips.

“Mm,” Harry opted to enjoy the kiss before responding, catching Louis’s lip between his teeth before releasing it. “Good thing I know how to clean then, don’t I.”

“Least you’re good for something,” Louis grinned, patting Harry’s hip. “Maybe someday we’ll work you up to learning how to use that fucking thing between your legs.”

“That’s not what you weren’t saying five minutes ago,” Harry sing-songed, stealing one more kiss before finally loosening his hold on Louis so he could move.

Instead of pulling away Louis turned in his hold and winked.

“Gotta keep you trying to give it to me somehow.” Swiping some of the come from his chest, Louis smacked it onto Harry’s, rubbing like finger paint. He paused, held up one finger then traced a line down Harry’s chest and deliberately over his nipple, ticking off a tally mark. “Oh, and that’s my point.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue but Louis curled his hand over Harry’s collarbone and kissed him before he could. Harry jumped and sucked in a sharp gasp of air at the shock of ice from Louis’s palm, eyes flying open.

He squinted at the sudden blinding light, staring at a blank white ceiling with the chill still on his collarbone and against his back and why was it so bright and why was it freezing and-

“Haz.” Louis’s disembodied voice came from somewhere above him rather than in front of him, his timbre far lighter than the throaty hoarseness he’d had only moments ago. A spike of terror drove into Harry’s chest and pinned him down. He could hear Louis. He couldn’t see him.

His bed shifted beneath him and then Louis’s face was hovering upside-down over his own, eyes twinkling and a half-smile playing about his lips. 

Harry fully came back to himself at that moment, realizing that he _had_ dozed off, that he was still lying against Louis’s chest and the show hadn’t yet started. Louis’s phone was no longer in front of his face but lying screen down on his stomach and when Harry looked down there were four legs covered in black jeans and he may have four nipples but he swore he only had two legs last he checked. He had to process that two of them ended with cuffed ankles and white trainers and therefore were obviously not his own. Louis’s hand was curled over his collarbone like he’d used it to wake him and was pressing like Harry really had jumped and Louis was _cold_ in a way he hadn’t been since that weekend, since he’d been cursed. It wasn’t just his fingers that were ice, but every part of Louis that was touching Harry was frozen and-

Louis leaned in close, a cheeky grin on his lips. His voice dropped to match the wistful yearning in his eyes.

“If you kept on wiggling like that you weren’t going to be the only one who needed some alone time with your fucking hand before we go on.”

“Wh-“ That made no sense and Harry was still hung up on how _cold_ he was. He reached for Louis’s hand, needing to prove to himself the chill of Louis’s body was only in his mind.

  
  
Louis frowned and pulled his hand away, curling his fingers in before Harry could catch them. He flopped his forearm over the arm of the sofa instead, his hand dangling out of sight. 

The chill on Harry’s arm disappeared too when Louis lifted his other hand off and curled those fingers also, tucking it between his body and the back cushions like he was bracing himself to sit up a little further even with Harry still lying against him.

They never discussed what had happened that weekend. It was too dangerous a secret to risk. Stroking or kissing or gazing at Harry’s nails tattoo was Louis’ silent language, the only way Harry knew he was thinking about what had happened to him. That the pad of Louis’s index finger had been smoothing back and forth over the tattoo like he’d been tracing it before Harry woke up only increased Harry’s confusion and worry.

Louis tensed, gaze darting away from Harry to lock onto the far corner of the dressing room, half-shadowed by Liam’s rack of tour clothes.

A pillow smacked down over Harry’s hips before he could say anything, not hard at all, but Harry wasn't expecting the sudden shock of pleasure-pain it caused and it knocked a tiny cry into his throat that thankfully didn’t escape.

“Someone was having a fucking good dream,” Niall said, pointedly glancing at the pillow now covering Harry’s crotch and very obviously trying and very obviously failing not to smile.

In the all of five seconds he’d been awake, Harry felt like he’d had to wake up now twice and he bit back a groan when the wave of heat from his very-hard cock pushing at the confines of his too-tight jeans rushed up his body. For as _cold_ as Louis was, Harry was _hot_ , flushed with arousal as painful as it’d been at the beginning of his dream.

Dream.

_Fuck_.

Of course it was a fucking dream.

Of course he remembered every. fucking. moment.

Of course it would be far worse than what happened last year in Brighton.

Of course it would be a fucking wet dream.

He heard Zayn and Liam laughing somewhere outside of his sight and it sounded like they were both sitting in front of the hair and makeup mirrors.

And of course, of fucking course he’d have a wet dream right before a fucking show with all the other lads in the room. He didn’t even want to think of what else he’d been doing besides ‘wiggling’ as Louis put it. He only prayed if he had been making any noises that they were obscene enough for the lads to not even want to attempt to mimic him.

It was going to take fucking years to live this down.

He groaned, thunking his head back on Louis’s chest a few times and squeezing his eyes shut, the only possible way to hide from this. And by ‘hide’ he meant be forced to lie here and take it and _not_ in the pleasurable context of that phrase.

He was so fucked, and _not_ in the pleasurable context of that phrase either.

_Fuck_.

“Best take care of that, Haz,” Liam commented with all the seriousness of a father who had just caught his teenage son hiding porn under his blankets. 

Harry rolled his head to the side on Louis’s chest to look at Liam, who was wearing that ridiculous white t-shirt with the red breast-pocket and blue stars all over it. If Liam made a single comment about Harry being the only teenager left of them, Harry would absolutely not be responsible for his actions.

Liam swiped down on his phone like he was checking the time, then said, “you’ve got about five minutes.”

“Doubt it’ll take him that long,” Zayn remarked idly as Niall snickered.

Wankers.

Harry made a mental note for the millionth fucking time to renegotiate his contract.

“Don’t worry, Haz,” Louis said from behind him, voice rumbling in his chest beneath Harry’s cheek. Harry could hear the quiet amusement in his voice even if his words seemed to be specifically loud so that Harry wouldn’t be the only one to hear him. “Just last longer than two fucking minutes and you’ll beat Payno’s time.”

Niall was steadily devolving into those full-bodied laughs of his and Zayn was chuckling now. Harry grinned up at Louis in the split second before Louis ducked over Harry, their noses knocking together as a shoe smacked into the wall behind Louis’s head and clunked to the floor, Liam’s voice following the projectile.

“Fuck off, Tommo.”

Harry had a feeling Liam’s choice to throw one of his shoes was deliberate, like a silent reminder of the shoe Louis never got a chance to throw at Liam when he’d been cursed. He wondered if Louis had the same thought.

Just remembering curved his lips into a smile. If he were being quite honest, it was one of his favourite Lou-isms (or would that be Louis-ms? No, nope. Now was not the time for his wordplay). He could hear Louis’s voice so loudly in his head even now a month later.

_If the shoe fits it’s big enough to throw at your fucking head._

He chuckled quietly.

“ _You_ may have time for that,” Louis smirked, eyeing Liam, “but _I_ definitely need more’n ten minutes.” Louis then glanced at him when Harry chuckled and shot him a raised eyebrow and a private smile, leaning in to murmur against Harry’s temple, “And my aim’s much better. I wouldn’t have fucking missed.”

Question answered.

Harry had to admit he thought Louis’s aim in the wet-fucking-dream had been pretty fucking spot on too.

His cock twitched at the memory and he sucked in a breath and held it, held it even more as he watched Louis’s gaze flick down to his still-pillow-covered crotch at that. His cock twitched _again_ as though it could feel Louis’s gaze and wanted to perk up and pop right out of his fucking jeans to show Louis what it could do. He was so grateful that Louis was clearly doing his best to stay still for his sake too. Harry was still working up the courage to move and didn’t yet trust that he wasn’t about to-

“You’re not about to bust a fucking nut through your bloody jeans,” Liam laughed before Harry could respond to Louis, rolling his eyes like he could roll the joke right off himself and onto Harry.

Like that’s how it worked. Liam still did not know how the game worked. At all.

“I dislike all of you except Lou,” Harry muttered, finally gathering the strength to shift and sit up off Louis and push the pillow off his crotch. 

“Oh you made that quite fucking clear long before whatever the fuck dream you were just having about Tommo,” Niall grinned, unfazed as ever.

One of these days something was going to faze Niall and Harry was going to log every fucking glorious minute of it by making Niall watch him pour every bottle of Guinness down the drain while a flock of pigeons flew around Niall’s head.

But alas, today was not that day.

So instead, feeling more than a bit frustrated right now, he threw up his finger at Niall and steadfastly refused to confirm or deny those words.

Not that he needed to confirm or deny. The lads were all snickering now.

Thank fuck there was a toilet just off the dressing room. He had a feeling it would take more time to try and will his cock back to sleep than it would to just have a wank, and far less pleasurable besides. It would be hard enough to walk to the door as it was and the only blessing from this all being a dream was that Louis wouldn’t remember him bringing up his own quip about big being hard to handle.

He doubted he’d be able to handle hearing that thrown back at him right now.

Harry paused in the doorway to the toilet just long enough to look back at Louis, who was curling his hands into fists like he could quickly warm his fingers up. Brows still furrowed, blue eyes darted between his hands and the corner now to the right of Harry before he noticed Harry's eyes on him.

Their gazes locked. Louis paused then dropped his hands out of sight again, one over the arm and the other between his bent up thigh and the back of the sofa. Eyebrow raised, he nodded at Harry’s crotch like he couldn’t help but look and then nodded at the door Harry was holding open, urging him to go in.

  
  
Judging from the painful pressure nearly making his knees buckle, Harry expected his bulge was so big and so obvious as to be borderline ridiculous right now.

He caught sight of the tiny GPS dog-tracker he’d attached to Louis’s shirt after he’d changed his kit for the show tonight. After nearly a month Louis still hadn’t figured it out and it was half the reason Louis was even in the room with them now rather than out preparing another prank on one of them. Harry was closer and closer to winning that part of the bet that he, Liam, Zayn, and Niall still had going as payback for everything Louis had put them through that weekend.

It was hard not to feel accomplished when he’d been able for this long to keep the tracker not only a secret from Louis, but also constantly keep succeeding in switching it out to whatever clothing he was wearing that day. As if that weren’t enough, it was hard not to feel accomplished when Louis had nowhere near enough points yet to learn the secret about Harry’s sequence that he most wanted Harry to tell him.

He was feeling a little better now with those thoughts. Frustrated as fuck, but better.

Harry snorted quietly under his breath, a confused smile finally forming to match the muted smile Louis was giving him.

_Tonight_ , Louis mouthed with a wink.

Tonight. Right.

If he could make it to tonight though that would be a miracle. If there was one thing he knew for a fact, it was that Louis Tomlinson was going to be the death of him and his not-so-little cock too.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! What'd you think?
> 
> The link to this fic-post for reblogging on Tumblr can be found **_[here](https://mercurial-madhouse.tumblr.com/post/627360926907154432/interlude-one-night-in-march-10k-e)_**.
> 
> You can find _Three Days in February_ **[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849366/chapters/62802772)** and a spooky wee ficlet from Louis's POV called _FRACTURED_ **[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136601)**.
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://mercurial-madhouse.tumblr.com) too if you'd like to see what's coming next! I love making new friends and am always updating with bits and pieces of what's to come.
> 
> Cheers!


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